


some shape of beauty

by sophieisgod



Category: Bright Star (2009)
Genre: 5 Things, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-12-24
Updated: 2009-12-24
Packaged: 2017-10-05 03:52:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 806
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/37527
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sophieisgod/pseuds/sophieisgod
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Margaret touches her fingers to the paint.</p>
            </blockquote>





	some shape of beauty

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Lirazel](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lirazel/gifts).



Fanny is leaning against the bedroom wall, eyes closed, palms pressed against the white paint. Margaret lifts her own hand, brushes her fingertips over the faint whorls, turns her hand over, drags her knuckles back the way she came. It just feels like paint.

"Shush, Toots," says Fanny, without opening her eyes, so she drops her hand, watches her sister.

There's a hollow-sounding knock from the other side of the wall. Fanny's lips part, curl into a smile that widens as her eyes flutter open, flick towards Margaret and back to the wall, like a joke, like a secret. She takes a soft breath, curls one hand and knocks back, once, twice.

Margaret touches her fingers to the paint.

-

Fanny is supposed to be sewing.

"Read it again, Toots," she says. Margaret doesn't need the book anymore; she has it committed to memory all the way down to 'the heaven's brink', and Fanny never wants to hear much past that anyway.

She dusts her hands off on her skirt, folds them neatly in front of her the way she's been shown; Fanny smiles encouragingly, jabbing her needle into the fabric without looking at it. She opens her mouth to begin, but they both startle at the sound of the post, and then Fanny is out of her chair, pushing Margaret towards the door, hissing, "Go, go!"

She holds the letter for a moment, looking at the scratchy black writing, before running back to Fanny and pressing it into her hand. Fanny presses a hurried kiss to the top of her head before retreating to her bedroom so quickly that their mother would frown to see it, taking the stairs two at a time.

-

Fanny's tone is sharp as she says, "Go away, Margaret!"

Margaret is hovering outside the room holding two cups of tea; her mother sent her up because Abigail is crying again. The door is slightly ajar; she can see Fanny and Mr Keats sitting together on the sofa, very close. Through the crack, she watches as Mr Keats runs his finger down the side of her sister's face, shaking his head at her, murmuring something Margaret can't hear. He looks towards the door.

"No, Toots, come here. Come on."

He gestures, and she nudges at the door with the toe of her shoe, trying not to spill the tea. She likes the way he says 'Toots' like nobody else, the 'oo' sound funny and too long.

She delivers the tea, almost scared to meet Fanny's eye in case she is really angry, but when she looks up Fanny says, "Thank you, Toots," and gently squeezes her hand.

"Thank you, Toots," says Mr Keats, and she smiles at him as he pretends to tip his hat to her. She would like to ask how he is feeling, but he is very pale and Fanny's eyes are very tired-looking, and their hands are clasped tightly between them on the sofa. She thinks she would like to stroke his hair, like a cat, and she blushes.

In the hall, as she closes the door behind her, she hears Mr Keats begin to cough.

-

Fanny is asleep, curled on top of the covers with her hand clenched in her dress, over her heart.

Margaret sits on the floor, skirts pooling around her knees, watching. The white wall is cool against her cheek.

She's not sure why she does it, only that she misses Mr Keats and it's the thing she knows best in the world. She whispers to the wall, 'A thing of beauty is a joy forever', carries on, all the way down, as far as she can go, the words sinking through the panelling to his old room.

On the bed, Fanny's breathing is quiet and even.

-

Fanny is walking on the Heath. Margaret thinks she must be very hot in her black, because the sun is unusually warm today, but she doesn't say anything.

On days like these, Margaret usually trails a few steps behind, because Fanny goes walking so she doesn't have to speak to people. Fanny doesn't see the butterfly, flitting through the air to land on Margaret's arm.

Margaret stays as still as she can. This butterfly is not quite like the ones that Fanny filled the room with; it's smaller, paler. It looks strange against her freckles. She wants so badly to stretch out a finger and stroke its wings, just gently, but she knows as soon as she does it will fly away. So she stands in the middle of the Heath, trying not to breathe too much.

Further up the path Fanny turns around, frowning, calls, "Toots, come on!"

When Margaret looks back at her arm, the butterfly is gone. She looks about her, sees it, briefly, buffeted by the breeze against the sky, before it is lost.

**Author's Note:**

> Title is from John Keats' _Endymion_, which is also the poem that Toots quotes.
> 
> \- yes, in spite of all,  
> Some shape of beauty moves away the pall  
> From our dark spirits.


End file.
